


Fair, Kind and True

by LateStarter58



Series: The Tom and Natalie Stories [3]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fellatio, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16814140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: “Fair, kind, and true, have often liv’d alone,Which three, till now, never kept seat in one.”Sonnet 105, William ShakespeareNatalie and Tom are a couple now, but their rural idyll can't continue. London is not a place for secrets...





	1. Let not my love be call'd idolatry

**Author's Note:**

> The third part of the Tom and Natalie saga. Natalie's past abusive relationship is still casting a shadow, despite her current happiness.

**_Wednesday morning_ **

Love transforms things, it changes things; it makes you see places differently, Natalie Banks thought to herself as the sleek dark blue car rose up the hill towards Hampstead. _My house has changed to my eyes; it is warmer, cosier. It has corners with special memories. And London is no longer intimidating, huge and busy. It is brighter, more welcoming, infused with greater excitement and significance, it is where my lover was born, where he lives._ She dragged her eyes from the elegant houses and brightly-lit, colourful shops and looked down at her lap, recalling the last time she was there. The evening, just a couple of weeks ago, when Tom had invited her for a home-cooked dinner, the same day they actually met face to face for the first time. She had been excited, nervous, uncertain quite what was happening.

But now…

Now she was in the back of a Jaguar saloon being driven by a sweet, quiet man who had met her at Euston holding up a card with her name, and in a couple of minutes they would be at Tom’s house. They had passed seamlessly along the busy streets, past the crowds of people bundled up against the cold, through the grey light, amid the bustle of the capital. She felt no nerves this morning, just a thrill of anticipation at seeing him again. She allowed her gaze to settle briefly on the deserted outside tables of a cafe as they passed, then she realised they were slowing, waiting for the way to be clear into his driveway. The high gates - much fancier than hers, and built for security and privacy - swung open and the cat purred in.

Tom was waiting for her in the doorway of his house, and he stepped forward and took her suitcase from the driver. “Thanks, Faisal.” The men shook hands.

“No problem, sir. Have a good visit, Ms Banks.” He turned to go back to the car.

“See you tomorrow!” Tom called after him, his eyes already fixed on Natalie’s face. She could hear Bobby’s manic barking from behind a door, and beneath it the sound of music… something classical, she thought. She looked up into Tom’s eyes. “Hello,” he said softly, “Please, my darling, come in.”

______________________________________________

**_Friday (five days earlier)_ **

  * _Pause 4 a coffee (me) and a pee (B) @ Chipping N_


  * **_Oh, youll fit right in there in the RR_**
  * _…_
  * **_Tho 2 b fair, the Jag would too_**
  * _Natalie_
  * **_I miss you already_**
  * _Me too_
  * _What r u up to today?_
  * **_Nurse appt, yoga._**
  * _Oh excellent. Enjoy xxx_
  * **_Safe journey darling xxx_**
  * _Try not to think of me during savasana ;) xxx_
  * **_Impossible xxx_**



**_____________________________________________ **

  * _Has he left?_
  * **_Yes :(_**
  * _Good. You cant keep him hostage forever_
  * **_SHUT UP_**
  * _Sorry Mum, but_
  * **_He was a willing prisoner_**
  * _Says you_
  * **_Its madness_**
  * _Why?_
  * **_Im too old_**
  * _Apparently not_
  * **_SHHH Anyway, its back to reality today_**
  * _Nurse appt?_
  * **_Yep_**
  * _Have a good day xxx_



_______________________________________________

Natalie discovered there was little left of the snow which had paralysed the west of England just a couple of days earlier as she drove her car the short distance to Kington. Apart from some deep melt puddles here and there, the roads were mostly clear. She pulled into the small car park at the doctors’ surgery and waved to Tansy, the cardiac specialist nurse who had also just arrived and was walking towards the front doors.

“Oh, Natalie, you made it. I was wondering how many of my patients I’d see today.”

“Well, a day or two ago it looked unlikely, didn’t it? Thank goodness it didn’t last.”

“Oh yes, but now they’re talking about flood warnings.”

“Fabulous.”

Tansy eyed her. The two women had become quite close in the period since Natalie’s operation, initially seeing each other several times a week when Nat first came home from hospital. An experienced nurse, Tansy was well aware of the need for a holistic approach in the care of cardiac patients, especially those with such serious conditions they warranted surgery. “You look particularly well today. How’ve you been keeping?”

Natalie felt her cheeks warming. “Good, good.” She managed what she hoped was a non-committal smile and turned towards the entrance. “Shall we get in the warm?”

Sometime later, Tansy was putting her equipment away and tapping notes into her _iPad_. She swivelled her chair back around to face Natalie. “Well, everything looks great. Your BP is fine, and the chip tells me neither the pacemaker nor the de-fib have been activated once since I last saw you. I’ll send these bloods off, but I doubt they’ll show anything bad. Any problems, worries?”

“No, none. That oil you recommended seems to be helping.”

“Yes, I can see. Any palpitations or dizziness?”

_Not cardiac-related, anyway._ “No.”

“Excellent.” She paused, assessing Natalie’s demeanour. She took in the sparkling eyes, the flush of the cheek, the looseness of movement. “Tell me if I’m prying, Natalie, but you seem...different…?” Natalie blushed again and looked at her lap. “Is it a… have you met someone?” Unable to speak for a moment, Natalie just nodded. Tansy grinned. “That’s great news! And of course you know that _all_ reasonable activity is allowed…” Nat’s eyes met hers and her cheeks turned even redder. “Ah, I see, well, that’s fine…” Both women laughed and Natalie’s embarrassment abated a little.

Natalie’s nurse appointments were usually scheduled at 2pm on Fridays because that tied in nicely with her nearby yoga class at 3. It was a small mixed group of mainly young mums and retired people, the instructor being a slim, cheerful woman of around Natalie’s age. Having only joined a year ago as a complete novice, Nat was still finding her way but loving it and in particular the new flexibility it had given her. She had missed coming when she was ill and then recuperating, and had been happy when she was able to resume classes a few weeks before.

As usual, she was the first to arrive after her teacher, and helped to unroll the mats on the village hall floor. Being a people-person, Julia, too, immediately noticed the positive change in her student.

“You look very cheerful this afternoon, Nat.”

“Do I?”

“Oh, come on, don’t be coy… it’s a bloke, isn’t it?”

“Might be.” Her face told the truth. She never could lie convincingly.

“So, tell me, is he nice?”

“Oh yes. That, and so much...um…”

Julia smiled and touched Nat’s arm. “That’s great, darling. I’m happy for you.” Other students were arriving and Natalie breathed a sigh of relief as Julia’s attention was taken elsewhere. Am I really that transparent? Will _everyone_ who knows me be able to see? _Oh god…_

“Afternoon everyone, so are we ready? Right then, ends of our mats, let’s think about those triangles under our feet…”

______________________________________________

  * Home safe. Bobby has peed 7543349548 times in the garden already.
  * **Of course he has. <3**
  * All ok? How was yoga?
  * **Relaxing. All good with the nurse.**
  * **Tom, people can tell**
  * Tell what?
  * **That I’m seeing someone**
  * Are you cheating on me already?
  * **Tom! I am happier**
  * So am I
  * I cant wait for Wed
  * **Me neither**
  * **Have a good meeting, darling**
  * I won't, but no matter. Take care xxx
  * **Kiss Bobby for me xxxx**



______________________________________________

**_Saturday_ **

_The Flying Dutchman_ was packed as was usual for a Saturday lunchtime, but Maxine had found a table and was waiting for her best friend to arrive, passing the time by having a text conversation - well, more of a row - with her eldest son. As a result, she was frowning at her phone and not looking up as Natalie approached.

“Hi, love.”

“Nat, darling, sorry, just dealing with the usual family shi-” She stopped abruptly as Natalie put down her bag and slipped off her jacket. “Natalie Harriet Banks…” Maxine’s voice was a stage whisper, “...you slept with him.”

“Max, for Christ’s sake!”

“You did though, I’m right, aren’t I?” Natalie glared at her but couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from turning up as she sat down. “Knew it! I knew that would happen. I knew he couldn’t resist you, you sexy beast.”

“Shut up, Maxine, please.”

“OK, but please, give me a crumb…” Nat kept up her steady black stare, but Max knew she would get her way. “Was it…?”

Natalie leaned forward so she could whisper properly. “Incredible.” Maxine gasped and clapped her hands, which made all thirty or so customers and staff in the café look round at them for a moment. “Stop it, please, Max.” She was beetroot red by now and not enjoying herself at all.

“Sorry darling, but I’m so very happy for you.” She caught Nat’s hand. “Nobody deserves this more than you, Nat.”

Natalie shrugged and picked up the menu. “Well, anyway, can we wait until we are alone before we talk about it anymore?” Maxine nodded and mouthed ‘sorry’. “OK, come on, let’s go and choose our lunch.”

An hour later they were sitting in Maxine’s _BMW_ which was parked on a quiet side street of half-timbered buildings just away from the centre of Leominster. The two of them often met up in the town because it was an easy drive along the A44 for them both and there were plenty of nice places for a meal or just a drink or two.

“So, he made a move then?”

“Max! It wasn’t like that.”

“I’m sure, I just… sorry, you know me. Crude. So, what now?”

“Well… It’s that damn book signing this coming week, Gail rescheduled it for Thursday afternoon, so-”

“Oh yes, so you’re off up to London?”

“Yes. I’m staying with Tom.”

Maxine punched the air. “Ooh, that’s marvellous! Is it serious, do you think?”

Natalie sighed, and raised her eyebrows, shrugging. “I don’t know, really… I mean, he said we were lovers-”

“Oh, Nat!”

“I _know_ … but it’s too soon to say what will...isn’t it? God, I don't know!”

“Me neither, but I can tell you one thing, my darling: you look happier than I have ever seen you, except for a few good times with Helen. So whatever Tom’s doing, he’d better damn well keep doing it.”

Natalie’s stomach did a few somersaults and she had to close her eyes. “God, yes,” she hissed.

“Fuck, Nat! I hate you and love you _SO MUCH!!_ ”

____________________________________________

The high-ceilinged, elegant Edwardian building was largely empty, this being the weekend, and Tom’s desk was clear. He liked to keep it that way, so if any of the staff of _HCR Films_ wandered in, it would appear he was on top of his role as CEO. All the chaos of his ideas and plans was reserved for his desk at home. There might not have been a _physical_ full in-tray, but his email inbox was bursting with unanswered messages and yet he could not focus. He had hoped that coming here, away from his house and the plans he was already making for Natalie’s visit, would enable him to clear his mind and catch up on the admin this new phase in his career was burdening him with. But it seemed that location was immaterial: just as on the drive home from Herefordshire, his thoughts were filled with her.

Her hair, her face, the way the sound of her voice made him feel, the terrible sadness in her eyes when she had talked about her old life. All these and more had crowded out everything else. He gave up trying to push it away, leaned back in his black leather chair, closed his eyes and let it take over. The weight of her arm through his as they had walked up the icy road together; the way her hair fell across her cheek when she leaned over to talk to Bobby; the adoration in the dog’s eyes as he looked up, full of rapt attention, as she spoke; how she had felt in his arms when he woke up in her bed.

_Had I planned it? She asked me, and I answered truthfully, but not fully._ His large hand came up in a reflex action to sweep through his long curls as he felt the all-too familiar twinge of guilt. He had not made a plan, but he had gone to Herefordshire with a growing desire for Natalie, an undeniable need to make love to her. But it was true that he had been prepared to wait until she was ready, because above all, he wanted to avoid hurting someone who already been through too much pain.

Standing up to release some of his pent-up emotion as energy, Tom strode across the room, opened the small fridge on the shelving unit and pulled out a bottle of water. He drank deeply, his head thrown back, eyes closed, then his breaths caught up as he stood, hand on hip, staring unseeing at the wall. _Natalie, Natalie, Natalie_... How long had it been since he had felt this way about someone? Had he ever felt this way before? This was not the ardent passion of youth, nor was it the pure, physical need he had experienced a few times in the past years. No, he thought, this is much more than that. I knew her first through her words, they seduced me, they were what made me want her. What was it I said at that meeting - the first one she missed? “I am in love with her prose.” God, what a cheesy line. But it was true.

And now I know why.

His phone made the sound that told him he had another email and stiffened his sinews, summoned up the blood and stepped back to his desk, opened his inbox and went once more into the breach.

____________________________________________

  * How ru?
  * **Good. You OK? The Bobster?**
  * Hes fine. Snoring
  * **Typical. Like his owner**
  * I DO NOT SNORE
  * **You do, but sexily. Like you do everything**
  * ?????
  * Everything?
  * **Yep. I told you.**
  * Harrumph. Actually, are you alone?
  * **Yes, why?**



Her phone started to ring. “Hi.”

“Oh god, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Ditto.”

“Now, what is all this nonsense about me snoring?”

“Thomas, do you really mean to tell me that nobody has ever said to you that you snore?”

“Well…”

“I knew it!”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s soft, quite endearing, really. And I bet I snore a bit.”

“Well, now that you mention it-”

“Shut up!” Both of them laughed. “Because I bet mine isn't sexy, and that I drool, as well.”

“Not that I noticed. In fact, you look beautiful when you sleep.”

“Now I know you’re having me on.”

“It’s true!” He remembered the sight of her in the faint light of morning. “You look so calm and peaceful. Like a Pre-Raphaelite painting.”

“Oh you… You say the nicest things. Wait, are those the fat ladies?”

He chuckled. “No. And it’s purely a statement of fact.” He closed his eyes. He was leaning back, his head resting on the cushions of his sofa, Bobby at his feet, a glass of beer on the side-table. “What are you doing this evening, darling?”

“Right now? Just sitting on the sofa, with a coffee and a book.”

“Anything good?”

“ _The Pigeon Tunnel,_ so yes, very good.”

“He’s a wonderful writer, and a fascinating person, too.”

“Yeah. I’m _so_ jealous…”

“That I’ve met him?”

“That he got the better of you in that scene.”

“Haha, yes, he threw himself into the part. He was a pretty tough nut to crack.”

“But you are like Jonathan. So self-assured… You always seem to be one step ahead of me.”

There was a pause. The air crackled. “Nat, do you think I’ve been manipulating you?”

Natalie gasped. “Oh, no, Tom, no, no, not at all! I just meant...” What did I mean? “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this…I... what I was _trying_ to say, and failing miserably, was that you have been so adept, so good at anticipating my feelings. Able to put me at my ease. There have been times, over the past week, when I feel as if I don’t know what is happening, whereas you seem so...in control, I guess.”

“I’m not in control, Nat. I’m not trying to control _you_ , you know that, right?” His voice had an edge to it, one she didn't like. _His jaw must be tight._

“Of course not, that’s not what I meant. I meant, _in control of yourself._ Whereas I am the opposite when I’m with you.”

Tom’s distinctive laugh came down the line, making her smile and need him desperately, all at once. Then he was quiet for a long moment. She heard him breathing. She could imagine his expression, the one that he had when he was searching for the words he wanted. “When I was with you, I tried to be patient. To allow you the time you needed. I knew I had to. But it was a thin veneer, Nat. I was, I _am,_ so attracted to you, that it was a struggle not to simply take you in my arms the minute I arrived and kiss you, hold you tight.” He heard her soft sob. “I wanted to look at you, to be with you, to touch you, all the time. I still do.”

“Oh, Tom…”

______________________________________________________

**_Wednesday morning_ **

Tom took her hand and she stepped over the threshold of his house once more. How different it felt this time! _That’s because_ _I’m here not just as a visitor, but as his lover..._ He opened the door to the living room and Bobby flew out and greeted her, a brown ball of hair, spit, eagerness and love. “Hey, Bob! How are you, darling?” Natalie crouched down to make a fuss of the spaniel, who couldn’t keep still in his excitement at renewing her acquaintance, constantly squirming and whimpering.

“Mind the way, Bobby!” His master’s stern tone made him calm momentarily. “At least let Nat get indoors properly.” He smiled lopsidedly.” Sorry. He’s missed you.”

She met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat, but in a good way. “I’ve missed him, too. The house has seemed very quiet.” Tom put her wheelie case down by the console table just inside the door, then took her messenger bag from her and placed it carefully alongside it. He straightened up, took Natalie in his arms, looked briefly into her eyes, and then calmly, without rushing, kissed her mouth. He started by pressing his lips gently against hers, his nose nuzzling her cheek as he sniffed lightly, taking in the fragrance of her skin. Then his tongue tapped lightly on her lower lip and she opened her mouth, allowing him to explore further as he pulled the rest of her body against his. He moaned softly as he lapped inside her mouth and Natalie felt her knees weaken as she whimpered in reply. She clutched at his neck and pulled gently on the curls at the nape. She breathed him in deeply, relishing it as the sheer pleasure of being this close pervade her whole being. She settled against him, and she felt him do the same.

“Hello.”

“You already said that.”

“I know. But now I know you’re really here.” She tilted her hips just a fraction, and his eyes rolled back. His voice was a low growl. “Nat…”

“Mmm?” Her mouth thrummed against his neck.

“I promised myself I wouldn't jump you the minute you arrived. So much for me being in control of myself.”

She grinned and grabbed his arse. “Well _I_ made no such undertaking, young man.”

Wordlessly, he lifted his eyebrows, took her hand in his, grabbed her case with the other and led her upstairs. As they reached the landing she glanced to her right and saw the mezzanine, a comfortable space with easy chairs and overflowing bookshelves. A desk was against one wall under a small round window. It was neat and she could see Tom’s laptop beside the galley copy of _The Harris Particle_ that he had been working on;a forest of multi-coloured sticky notes protruded from the pages. But there was no time to dally; Tom was leading her to his bedroom. He put her case down by the bed then turned and slid his hands inside her warm coat. He lifted it off her shoulders and folded it over a chair.

“That’s very nice.”

“You like it? It was the second thing I treated myself to with Ernie’s cash. After the _Prius_.” Tom looked at it again. It was crimson merino wool and deliciously soft to the touch. When he saw her getting out of the car the vivid colour had made her glow in the watery winter light; it must have been a bold statement in the early days of her freedom. “I don’t get many chances to wear it. It’s more of a _town_ sort of a coat, not ideal for doing the weekly shop in... I know it’s a little bit out of date, but it cost me more than I’d ever-”

“It’s gorgeous.” He smiled. “Like you.”

Natalie looked down shyly. She was unused to compliments, and very British in her reaction to them. She searched for a way to divert, then heard the sound of piano and orchestra from a speaker on a shelf. “What’s the music?”

“Brahms. I’ve been listening to a lot of Brahms lately.”

“Have you? Ah yes, I thought I... Second Piano Concerto?”

He nodded. “I love the way the piano practically _flirts_ with the orchestra. It’s almost...coquettish.” His eyes were drawn inevitably to her lips. “I don’t know, I suppose it makes me…”

Natalie reached up and pulled on his neck. “Shhhh…”

His hands were warm, so when they eased their way under her long sweater, she felt only the shivers of desire. She almost cursed the choice she had made to wear her long black boots, but it was still very cold and they were comfortable to travel in. Tom splayed his fingers over her back and she sucked on his neck. Her right leg was wrapping itself around his left one; he took hold of her thigh and pressed his growing hardness against her. They both moaned.

“Please, Tom.”

“OK.”

He had intended to behave, as he had told her, but faced with the reality of her presence, his undeniable desire and her unabashed lust for him, he had no hesitation in working his fingers inside her jeans. Natalie groaned and reached for his belt-buckle. Fumbling fingers and they found each other, heat rising as the music swelled.

___________________________________________________

“What time is it?”

Tom was sitting up on the edge of the bed. Natalie allowed her eyes to roam over his back, mapping the freckles, admiring the way his muscles looked, powerful and beautiful under his skin.

“Twelve-fifteen.” He laughed. “We should be ok.”

“OK for what?”

“I’ve booked a table for lunch, at one, but the restaurant is only a two-minute walk.” Natalie felt her stomach tighten. Her visible anxiety made Tom twist to lean over and kiss her gently. He smiled. “It’s fine. It’s a small place, and they know me. We have a table away from the window. I didn't tell you because I didn’t want you fretting about it.”

“But the walk…”

“Nothing odd about you and I having lunch. I’m working on a film of your book.”

“I know, but…” Natalie’s hands went to her hair, which was tousled and slightly damp from their lovemaking. There were always paparazzi pictures of him walking around here, with Bobby or with breakfast in a bag... “I’d better have a shower or someth-”

“You look great. But of course, if you want to, it’s just there.”

She sat up, suddenly feeling very conscious of her age, of her scar, of the bulk of the battery for her cardiac implant. Was she ready? Tom walked round the bed and sat beside her. “Luke suggested that the odd picture of us, doing things like going out to eat, or walking Bob, might not be a terrible thing. People who see them can make their own assumptions. Which they will.” He took her hands and she turned her face to his. “If you really don’t want to be seen with me, I can cancel the reservation and we can rethink tomorrow. But I honestly feel this is the way to go about this.”

“ _This_?”

“You and me. Us.” Natalie’s eyes closed for a moment as her insides went on a rollercoaster ride. She wondered briefly when she would stop feeling like a teenager about it. “I wish it wasn't necessary, but unfortunately, my life is what it is. It’s died down a bit since...you know, but…”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, I understand, of course and really, I’m not saying I don’t want to be seen in public with you. It’s just, every so often, it sort of hits me. Not just that it - _that we_ \- will be a matter of interest to complete strangers, but just the…” She looked into his eyes and a wave of emotion flooded through her. “...the reality of you.” Her hand came up and cupped his cheek. His beard tickled her palm, his eyes closed and he pressed into her touch.

Forty-five minutes later, Natalie had showered, re-done her make-up, changed into a pair of smart trousers and ankle boots and was ready. Almost. Tom took in her pale face and shaking hands, wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in for a hug and kissed her forehead.

“So, how do want to play this? Holding hands, arm-in-arm, or no contact?”

Her eyes widened. “God, I don’t know… Would me on your arm just look like you being a gentleman helping a sick old lady?”

Tom ducked his head and took a nipping kiss at her mouth. “Shhh! Seriously, if we want to be blatant, we should hold hands, maybe take a few pecks on the way, but…”

“Fuck, this is so weird!” She thought for a moment. “I think, arm-in-arm. That way I get to touch you. Without telegraphing anything.”

“Excellent! OK, let’s go, shall we?”

And so, Natalie Banks, newly-published author and lover of the most handsome, sexiest actor in London (if not the world), set off for her first deliberate foray into the world of celebrity: a short walk to a Persian restaurant in Belsize Park on the arm of her lover.


	2. Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the signing is upon them, but it is to have a shocking conclusion.

**_Wednesday afternoon_ **

“Tom?”

“Yes, darling?” His smile widened, brightening the grey London street.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better. Why do you ask?”

“You’re smiling. You don’t generally smile when the paps are around.”

He looked at her sternly for a split-second. “You’ve been looking online again. Anyway, it’s your fault.”

“Oh, _you…_ ”

Despite her determination to keep her expression neutral, Natalie was aware that she was looking up at him adoringly. So much for the fiction that this is all ‘strictly business’... The man with the big lens was ahead of them, walking backwards, occasionally nipping behind bits of street furniture - advertising hoardings, telephone poles, bus shelters - and snapping at them. Cameras nowadays, phones too, come to that, despite rarely containing actual film, still seemed to make that whirring or clicking noise. No doubt it was there for the familiarity factor, to comfort the user. But it also alerted the photographed to the presence of an intruder.

Lunch had been very pleasant. I’m smiling too, she thought, as she squeezed Tom’s bicep, recalling the experience. As he had promised, the waiting staff were charming and their table was in a quiet corner, away from the windows. _People who see them can make their own assumptions…_ I told him I didn’t think I could hide it. And he said I shouldn’t try. She glanced sideways at the photographer. Camera aside, he appeared like any other person on this chilly London weekday street: beanie hat, warm quilted jacket, gloves, jeans and boots. No horns, no lascivious smile, no fangs. No forked tail, Natalie thought and smiled slightly.

“Now you’re at it.”

“Am I? I just thought of something and… and anyway, it’s your fault.”

They reached Tom’s gate and he tapped the keypad to open the personnel door. Once they were in, they both relaxed, and Tom pulled her close for a snog. After a minute of passionate kisses, he released her.

“Sorry, I just…”

“Had to?”

“Something like that.” He turned towards his door. “Let’s get inside.”

Once she had made herself comfortable in the sitting room, Natalie retrieved her phone and sent her agent a message.

  * **In London. All set for tomorrow?**
  * Yes, I hope so! You OK?
  * **Yes ta x**
  * Where are u staying? Do you need a car?
  * **All sorted.**
  * Oh I SEE
  * **Gail?**
  * So, I booked a table for dinner tomorrow. U, me and Vin.
  * Do I need to make that 4?
  * **Can I let u no?**
  * Course. C u tomorrow at 1.30 xxx



Tom came back in from the kitchen with two glasses of water. “Everything alright?”

She pulled a face. “Yeah. It’s just…”

He sat beside her.

“Gail’s worked it out, I think. Us, I mean.”

He laughed and put his phone on the coffee table next to hers. “Ben has, I suppose it’s inevitable our friends will.”

“Ben? Oh...”

Tom put his arm around her and kissed her temple softly. “The people who matter in our lives will know, I think. You could tell when Helen was seeing someone, surely?”

“Yes, usually. And I knew Phil was special from the start.”

“I think it’s part of that bond we have with special friends and family. They can sense when there is a change in us, in our emotional lives.” He sat forward, hands on his thighs. “Now, we need to give the Bobster his afternoon trundle. Fancy a stroll on the Heath?”

“That would be...um, yeah. First of all, I need to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Gail’s taking us out for dinner tomorrow, me and Vinnie. After the signing, you know, to celebrate, debrief... She’s asking, er…”

“Do I want to come too?”

“Yes.” Natalie looked at him uncertainly. This was more than lunch down the road. This was dinner with professional colleagues. They already knew each other, but…

“I’d love to.” He was smiling at her. That’s just great, she thought, so the ball’s in my court. I have to decide whether I want to risk photos of us having dinner the next day, on top of lunch, not to mention walking the dog. “Are you feeling alright, Nat? You look a bit pale.”

She shook herself mentally. “I’m fine, just my imagination running off at tangents, you know. Occupational hazard, I suppose.”

“So, a walk?”

“Yes, that would be great. I need to burn off some of that fabulous ice cream. Just let me text Gail.”

  * **Yes, another person for dinner pls xxx**
  * Oh Nat <3<3<3 xxxx



_______________________________________________

Their walk was uneventful, unless you count Bobby’s chase of someone else’s ball and his hissy fit when he could not locate the particular stick Nat had thrown for him. He refused to suspend his search and had to be dragged away, protesting unheeded that he could find it if they’d only give him another twelve hours on Parliament Hill. The weather remained dull and overcast, but Natalie barely noticed. Tom’s company, Bobby, the pleasant surroundings, the fresh air up there above the worst of the city pollution, it all made her feel better. Alive, optimistic, her anxiety eased. Perhaps for fear of being overheard, during the walk Tom had kept their conversation light. They had discussed the weather, passing dogs, their own canine history - _Tom’s childhood Golden Retriever, her Heinz 57 variety_ \- and nothing of work or deeper matters. But when they returned to the house, he could see she was still unsettled.

“Are you OK with me joining you guys tomorrow? Because-”

“I am, yes, I’d love it. Thanks.” He’d put a cup of tea in front of her. “It’s just, you know, I suppose I’m generally a bit anxious about tomorrow. The signing, I mean.”

He sat down beside her on the sofa. Natalie liked this corner of the room; Tom’s overflowing bookshelves were to her right, and she could see the milky light of the late London afternoon through the window opposite. “That’s only natural. Gail will be there to support you. Me too.” He squeezed her hand. “And that reminds me.” He leaned over and picked up his copy of _The Harris Particle._ “If you would be so kind...”

She took the volume from him, her stomach tingling. It still gave her a thrill to see it, her novel, her name, for real, on a real book. But what to put? Nothing too intimate, as any visitor might read it. She took the pen he passed her and leaned back to think. Her mind took one of its diverging paths, imagining some future biographer of the great Shakespearean actor coming across the novel and puzzling over her message, then delving and finding a few passing references. That’s me, she thought. A footnote.

“Can’t decide what to write?”

She elbowed him. “Just trying to compose some of that prose you say you love so much.” His hand reached over and held her head gently while he kissed her temple. “OK, stop it, I can’t think when you do things like that.” He chuckled darkly. “At least, not the sort of thoughts that I can write in the front of a book.”

Tom breathed in deeply and slowly, sitting back and trying to cool his ardour. He looked at the woman beside him. Her profile, the shape of her jaw partially hidden by the fall of her hair, the rounded swell of her chin and her long eyelashes as she blinked. He closed his own eyes for a moment to allow her fragrance and the sensation of being beside her to dominate. It was so good to be with her again, and it made him feel clearer about his own wishes. Yes, he did want to be with Natalie. Yes, he did want to be seen with her. And he didn’t mind, or at least, he was confident he could ignore, all the inevitable speculation that would flow from that. But he was very aware that he was only fifty percent of this relationship, and that she was coming from a very different situation.

Natalie took in a sharp breath and then opened the book, found the title page and began to write. She smiled as she did so, tears pricking at her eyes. So many emotions bubbled up that they were pressed for space, but she controlled herself. She blew softly on the ink, then put the pen down on the table and handed Tom the book.

_“To Tom, my first and most enthusiastic reader. With love and a thousand inexpressible thanks for changing my life, Nat xxxx_

____________________________________________________

**_Wednesday evening_ **

The bedroom looked and felt very different in the dark, Natalie thought. Without the illumination from the windows it seemed smaller, cosier, even more intimate. She had come up to change into her slippers because her feet were hot and her ankles tight after a day of boot-wearing. She looked at the bed; Tom had made it in a makeshift sort of way after they got up before lunch., but it still had that crumpled look. Her stomach flipped at the memory. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed and sat down on the nearest corner, waiting for her heart to calm.

“This is insane,” she whispered to herself, “How can this be happening?”

“Nat? Fancy a _digestif_?” His voice came up the stairs, causing a flurry of extra beats.

“Ooh, yes, I’ll be right down!”

She stood and straightened her jumper while mentally slapping herself. This was a good thing, a wonderful thing that was happening, a miraculous thing. She had to embrace it, as she had the publishing contract, the inheritance, all the good things that had come along in the last few years. This felt much scarier that any of those others, but only because there was another person there. Someone she didn't want to lose.

That’s it, she thought, relieved that she had figured it out. That’s why I’m so scared: I don't want to lose him. She looked in the mirror opposite and was amazed to see she was smiling. But that was perfectly natural - she understood and she knew what to do now: just go down there and love him. That’s all you can control, Nat. She started for the door, only then remembering her purpose in coming upstairs. Sitting down quickly she unzipped her boots and slid her feet into her soft mules, sighing with pleasure at the feel of the sheepskin. Then she headed for the stairs - but not too fast. There was no rush.

Tom was waiting for her, hovering by his drinks cabinet. “What would you like? I’ve got the usual, cognac, whiskies, a nice single malt in fact. Or would you prefer a liqueur?” He turned to check the bottles and she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to the firm muscle of his back for a moment.

“A small glass of malt would be lovely. Just a tiny one.”

He twisted round and kissed her swiftly. “Lovely. I think I’ll join you.” He poured two modest tumblers and brought them over to the sofa where she had reinstalled herself. “This is my Dad’s favourite, so I try to keep a bottle in.”

Natalie took a sip. It was peaty, dry but sweet, complex; the amber colour was like the golden strands in Tom’s beard. She took another, trying to pick out her impressions: vanilla, almost toffee, she thought. “That’s really good. Whereabouts is it from?”

“Speyside. It’s a _Tormore_.”

“Speyside, right. Never been to that part. That’s where Balmoral is, right?”

“Sort of, yes.”

Natalie leaned back and sipped again, enjoying the warmth spreading through her as the whisky made its way down to her stomach. “I love Scotland, but I haven’t been in years. We used to go to the Argyll coast when I was a girl, to Largs and Cumbrae.”

“Ah, Largs, yes, I love it. My Dad’s from Greenock.”

“Oh yes, I think I read that somewhere.” He gave her one of his disapproving frowns. “I never said I hadn’t looked you up _at all, Thomas._ ” He grinned and looked down shyly. “Seriously, though, my main memory, apart from the fantastic sundaes at _Nardini’s,_ is the light off the water, all along that coast. The Firth of Clyde. We were lucky with the weather, usually, and I remember that beautiful sunshine, but sort of filtered, so it had a shimmering quality.”

Tom gave her a long look. “An unusual child, were you?”

She slapped at him playfully. “Shut up! I was a keen photographer then, mainly because Dad was. I may have heard him talking about the light, now I think about it.” She smiled as she recalled. “I still have those pictures somewhere.”

“We should go up there. Yes!” He was warming to his sudden inspiration, and he felt his excitement building. “We could do a tour. Have you been to Skye?” She shook her head regretfully. “Then we must go there; it’s stunning. May is a good time - plenty of light in the long days, and no midges.”

Natalie watched and listened as he enthused about the Highlands and Islands. She was keen on the idea, but mainly because of its meaning: he was planning a future for them. Perhaps I’ll be a bit more than just a footnote, she mused. She nodded and made the right noises, but she hardly heard his words. She was simply watching him, this beautiful man, this kind and gentle person, this unfairly talented, unbelievably attractive man who wanted her.

“Christ, is that the time?”

Tom’s sudden change of tone was startling. She looked at her watch; it was past eleven. “Oh, it’s not so bad…”

“You must be exhausted, darling. What time did you leave home?”

“Oh, um, it was about seven-fifteen, I think. But I am fine, actually. I haven’t really done much - I’ve been mostly sitting all day.”

“But tomorrow is going to be busy, so perhaps we should…” The eyebrows went up again, but this time there was no disapproval.

She slid her hand up his thigh. “Sounds good to me.”

Tom turned at the waist so he could kiss her cheek. “Not too tired, then?”

She caught his head in her hands and pressed her lips to his, sucking softly on his lip before releasing it. “Never.” He kissed her deeply, his hands searching for her skin, his voice a low moan as she whimpered. “But remember, I have to sit down all day tomorrow, too.”

Tom pulled back, his face a pantomime of horror. “Ms Banks, I’m appalled by your implication!”

“Never mind about that, come on.” She was pulling on his arm.

“Just better let the dog out. I’ll be right up.”They walked together towards the stairs, Tom having to pass them on the way to the garden doors. As she took the first step up, Tom’s hand caressed her backside and his fingers brushed between her legs. She paused, breathless, and had to grab the handrail. He chuckled to himself. “Hehehe. Come on, Bobby, time to point Percy at the undergrowth.”

____________________________________________

**_Wednesday night_ **

How would I write this in a novel, Natalie pondered in the dark? Tom was asleep already, his arms around her as she rested on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was soothing her and she felt close to dropping off herself. This game was one she often played; it helped her to fall asleep. Would I describe the sex, or gloss over it, the literary equivalent of the soft fade? Would I talk about his tongue, teasing, hot, wet, clever as the rest of him? She sighed, her body tingling at the memory of it. He had shown her a world she had only read about or seen on screen before. And his confidence in bed made her bold, and now she was the one initiating things, moving him, asking for more of what she liked.

I’m like Hester, she thought briefly, suddenly discovering overnight that there is more to life than reading by the fire. And then she remembered the Brahms playing that morning, and how she had grabbed his arse, and how he had driven into her as the orchestra swelled and rose. His body, his mind, his heart. I have them, she thought, smiling to herself even as her consciousness fell into the abyss. And he has mine.

__________________________________________

**_Thursday morning_ **

  * Hi Mum
  * **Morning**
  * Surprise!
  * **???**
  * Max and I are on the train to London
  * **R U???**
  * Yep. Decided to come to the signing
  * **Oh darling, that’s great!**
  * C U L8R
  * **xxxx**



“Sneaky devils.”

Tom looked up. They were sharing a late breakfast, sitting close at his kitchen table, knees touching. “Who’s that?”

“My daughter and my friend Maxine, they’re coming up for the signing. Didn't say a word.”

“That’s great!”

“I just hope that friends and family don’t outnumber the real customers.”

“They won’t. Gail’s done a good job, as have _Hatchard’s_. I’m sure all the people I saw turned away last time will be back.”

She looked up at him, suddenly certain nobody would come. “You think so?”

“Yes!” He put an arm around her shoulder. “Your sales are good already, the publicity about the film won’t have hurt… I don't know that much about the books market, but I’m sure, yes.”

Natalie sighed. Everything still seemed ludicrous to her, it was new and strange, crazy that she was in this position. And another thing. “It’s not Helen’s day off… she never told me she was taking leave.”

“She wanted to surprise you.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s it.”

“Nat.” His tone was solemn, serious enough to make her look up.

“Yes, darling?”

“A few of that man’s photos have been appearing overnight.”

“Ah. Well, we expected that, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but I thought you should know. Luke messaged me this morning.”

“Do they know it’s me?”

“Yes, and as we thought, most assume it’s work.”

“Most...” And so it begins, she thought…

___________________________________________

They took another walk, partly to fill the morning, partly to ease her nerves, returning by eleven-thirty so Natalie could get ready. She went straight up to do her makeup and change; she’d selected an outfit she hoped made her look younger, more up to the minute than she felt, but still comfortable. The trendy new author. With Helen’s advice, she had chosen powder-pink skinny jeans and a matching jumper, decorated with sparkling sequins. The sweater had a v-neck, which revealed the top of her surgical scar, but Nat had begun to see it as a badge of honour, a symbol of her survival, so she quite liked it being subtly on show. Putting in some pretty earrings, she stood up and took a look at herself in the full-length mirror.

“Gorgeous.”

“You are, but what about me?”

Tom stepped into the room and pulled her into him, nuzzling. “Oh, shush! You look fantastic. In fact, I think I’d better rethink what I am wearing.”

“What, not charcoal jeans, a jumper and that pea coat?”

He pushed her away playfully. “Oh, _you_ shut up! I was thinking of a suit, actually.”

“But the grey suede boots, right?”

“Nat.” His tone was faintly menacing. It made her core tingle. “What did I say about not googling me?”

“You’re hilarious.”

Once they were both dressed, Tom persuaded Natalie to eat a snack so she didn’t run out of energy mid-afternoon, and they were all set when Faisal arrived to chauffeur them to Piccadilly.

______________________________________________

**_Thursday afternoon_ **

The manager - Gail’s friend Jeremy - had ushered them all into his office to wait out of sight until the appointed hour. Vinnie was missing, but he had only promised to drop in as he was very busy, and there was a representative from the marketing division of _Gipping Books_ present _._ Natalie, Tom, a giggly Gail and the mildly panicky Jeremy all sat sipping water and trying to relax.

Rachel from marketing put her head round the door. “Everything is ready, Ms Banks. There’s a small queue already.”

“Thanks.” Another sip. Tom sought out her hand and pressed his against it.

They all jumped when the phone on the desk rang. Jeremy answered. “Jeremy Waller.” He listened, then smiled. “Oh, right. Yes, please send them right up.” He put the receiver down. “Your daughter and friend are here.”

When Maxine and Helen arrived, it became impossible for everyone to fit into the small room, so Jeremy and Gail went down to the shop floor for one final check. Natalie made the introductions, glaring at Max in a way that she hoped would convey her desire for discretion.

“So marvellous to meet you, Tom. Natalie’s told me-”

“Precisely nothing, Tom. Ignore her.”

He laughed. “How long have you two been friends?”

Max grinned. “Since nursery, so almost fifty years.”

“And she’s as incorrigible now as she was then. Maxine, put him down.”

Reluctantly, Max stepped back to allow Helen to greet Tom. She kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm. “Great to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you, too, Helen. I’d say that your mother has told me all about you, but as I’m sure you know, she’s very discreet.” Helen smiled, and both her mother and Tom noticed a strain in her face. “I expect you are very busy at work, from the headlines…”

“Oh, you know what the press are like. Things are always bad, worse in winter, but we keep going.”

“Phil couldn't come with you?”

“No, Mum. She’s got a shift today.”

Tom looked at Nat. “Helen’s wife is a paramedic.”

“Ah.” Tom nodded, but as he did he noticed a nervous look exchanged between Max and Helen. Odd...

The clock ticked round to two, and Jeremy came to fetch them. Natalie’s stomach was a mass of fluttering, but she managed to fake confidence, walking out and getting into the lift with Gail and Jeremy. Nobody else would fit into the small old-fashioned car, so the others took the stairs.

“Remember, no handshaking or you’re certain to get cramp. And if you want to, selfies are OK, but not if the queue is very long.” Natalie laughed; who’d want a selfie with her? “I’ll let you know if we need to hurry things along.”

Rachel was telling the truth, Natalie thought as she walked between the shelves and displays of other people’s fiction, there is a queue! Forty or so people were standing in line behind a fat rope which was suspended from two poles about three feet from where she was to sign the books. Five feet tall blow-ups of the cover of _The Harrison Particle_ flanked the table, and a banner proclaiming her presence was hanging from the mezzanine rail above. A woman waiting in line noticed her arrival and began clapping, which set others off, and by the time she took her seat, applause was rippling around the shop.

She saw Tom step into a corner with Gail, nearby but out of the limelight. He was smiling at her, and that made her feel better. Maxine and Helen waved as they lurked by the Julian Barnes display. This is it, she thought, this is my first outing as _Natalie Banks, Author…_ She blushed as Jeremy introduced her, thanked her for coming all the way from Herefordshire, hoped she was fully recovered, and invited the man who was first in the line to step forward.

“Good afternoon, what’s your name, sir?”

____________________________________________

It was getting dark by the time they were ready to leave the shop. Over 100 people had asked Natalie to sign their copy of _The Harrison Particle._ Of those, perhaps a dozen or so had asked her about the film. Tom had been approached a few times, she had seen it out of the corner of her eye, and while he had been polite, he had refused all requests for pictures. Now they were heading for the back entrance onto the quiet side street where Faisal was waiting. Max and Helen were coming along, because Tom had invited them to share a bottle of bubbly he had been chilling to celebrate the occasion.

Natalie was arm in arm with her daughter, and she felt tension. Something was wrong. She was just trying to think what it might be when a movement beside her made her flinch instinctively. A man, smartly dressed but with anger twisting his face, was moving across her, trying to grab at Helen. Faisal, who had been holding the car door open, stepped in swiftly and caught the man by the arm, just after he made contact, pulling him aside.

Gail had her phone out in a flash. Tom, who had been a few steps behind with Maxine, pulled Natalie into his arms and kissed her hair. “What the fuck? Are you alright, Nat?” He looked at Helen. “Helen?”

Natalie’s daughter was staring at the man, who was squirming and whining under Faisal’s firm, professional pressure. Her face was white, but her expression was of anger. “You,” she said softly.

“Do you know this person, madam?”

She nodded to Faisal. “Helen? Who is he?”

The sound of footsteps made everyone look up. People were coming to gawp, a few had phones out. Questions were being shouted, Natalie heard Tom’s name mentioned.

“His name is Terence Gordon. He’s… well, the thing is, Mum, he’s Phil’s stalker.”


	3. Still constant in a wondrous excellence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie's reaction - or over-reaction - to the attempted attack knocks Tom off-balance, and threatens the future of their relationship

**_Thursday evening_ **

“I’m sorry to have ruined your evening.”

“Don’t be silly, darling. I’m just so glad you weren’t hurt.”

Helen sat with her mother on Tom’s sofa. He was in the kitchen with Maxine, making tea. “I can’t believe he followed me all this way.”

“No.” _If I’d known about this, would I have changed my plans?_ Natalie’s mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. “Well, I suppose I’m still processing it. But at least he’s in custody.”

“For now.”

As luck would have it, a foot patrol had been nearby on Piccadilly and a passer-by had alerted them to the scuffle. By the time they arrived, Gail had ushered the others back inside _Hatchard’s_ , away from the crowd of gawpers that had gathered. Faisal had kept hold of the man while Jeremy stood by. The officers called for help and Gordon was taken away. After taking everybody’s details they allowed everyone to leave, promising that someone would be in touch.

“How long has this been going on? Who on earth is this man? How did it start?”

Helen sighed. She hadn’t wanted to bother her mother with it at first, believing it would stop, then, just at the time his behaviour became more frightening, Natalie’s health had deteriorated and she and Phil decided not to say anything. “His mother - I think it was, it might have been his Gran - anyway, she was a patient of Phil’s. He was the one who called for an ambulance. A routine job, low priority, no dramas, but something made him latch on to Phil. It happens.” Natalie nodded. She knew about it - caring professions were more prone than others, but it occurs in all kinds of situations. “He started trying to leave her messages. Then, a few months ago, we realised he must have followed her home after a shift.”

“Oh.” Natalie’s heart started to race and she felt slightly nauseous. _A few months ago…_

“Nat, are you OK?” Tom’s voice was loud and had a note of fear in it.

“Mum? Lean back, just breathe slowly…”

“Is she OK? She’s so pale...Helen, what is it?”

“I’m OK, I just...OW!” Her internal defibrillator had fired, set off by her fast and erratic heartbeat. Calm down, she said to herself, this isn't helping. She looked up; three anxious faces were staring down at her. Helen’s fingers were on her wrist, and she resisted the impulse to pull her arm away.

Maxine saw the flash of irritation and smiled. “She’s not too bad, well enough to be pissed off, anyway.”

Natalie focussed on her breaths, telling herself to relax, and after a minute or two, she felt her heart slowing again. She looked at Tom, who had sat down beside her and taken her hand in his, rubbing her palm with the pad of his thumb. “I’m fine, love. Sorry to have scared you.” He smiled and shook his head.

“You’re in pain?”

“No, darling. Just for a second, when it zapped me.” She tapped her chest, then moved her gaze to her daughter, her face hardening. “Months? You should have told me.”

Helen looked down, shaking her head. “You had enough on your plate at the time.”

“But since I’ve been better?”

Helen shrugged and stepped away, moving to the other sofa to give them space. “We kept hoping it would go away. And he seemed harmless.”

Natalie was about to argue when Helen’s phone began to ring. She looked at the screen dubiously; it was an unknown number.

“It might be the police,” Maxine suggested.

“Oh, yes, I’d better…” She answered it, and it was. Helen stood up and walked to the other end of the room while listening attentively. She nodded and spoke quietly and briefly then finished the call and returned to the others. “That was the detective that’s been given the case. They’re going to charge him with ‘Actual Bodily Harm’. He’s not talking and he’s in a cell for now, at the station. I’ve got to go in tomorrow to give a statement.”

Maxine rubbed her hands. “That’s good, isn’t it? That he’s been charged, I mean?”

“Maybe.” Helen’s face was as serious as her mother could remember seeing it since before the divorce. “I’d better call Phil to update her.”

“There’s a room down the hall there you can use, if you’d like some privacy.” Tom guided her to a spare bedroom and left her to it, returning to the still tense atmosphere in the living room. “I don’t suppose anyone feels like going out, but I could order some takeaway, if you’re hungry…?”

No one was, and soon after, Maxine and Helen headed off to their hotel. Tom asked again, but Natalie was not in the mood for food. He made himself a quick sandwich, just to stop his stomach from complaining too loudly. He was concerned, because Natalie’s reaction seemed disproportionate to the event, and she had not been mollified at all by the news that the man was still in custody. Having finished his food and drained the last of his beer, he had decided to ask her why when his own phone buzzed.

Natalie saw his expression. “What is it?”

“Nothing terrible, just… one of those people, the ones hanging around this afternoon, has posted a photo of you and me.”

She tried to remember precisely what happened. “What, exactly?”

“This.” He showed her: it was a bit blurred, but there was no doubt, his lips on her hair by her ear, his arms around her.

“Oh, that’s just...fuck.”

Tom put the phone down and pulled her close, his arm around her shoulder. “It’s fine, Nat, with me, anyway. I just wish the circumstances...well, you know, but we agreed, didn’t we?”

“But this...all this unpleasantness...it’s all so horrible. I hate the idea you’ve got mixed up in it.”

“Hardly! And Helen is the victim. She hasn’t done anything wrong, nor has her wife, and you definitely haven’t!” She didn’t respond, and he realised she was crying very quietly. “Oh, Nat, really, it’s fine.”

“No it isn’t! I’ve… I’m… no Tom, nothing about this is fine!” She stood and ran for the stairs.

Tom hesitated, then decided to follow.

“Nat?”

In the light from the landing he could see that Natalie was curled on the bed facing away from him. She looked very small and vulnerable and his heart clutched as saw her breath catch in a sob. Rather than say the wrong thing again, he simply joined her, lying down gently to stretch out along her back, with his hand tenderly on her waist. But she wasn't talking, just shook her head when he asked softly if he could get her anything. She wanted nothing from him except his presence. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

______________________________________

**_Friday morning_ **

The bed beside him was empty and cold when Tom woke. He saw in the bathroom that Natalie was preparing to go home: her toiletries were mostly repacked. He found her in the kitchen, fully dressed.

“How are you, darling?”

“I’m ok, thanks. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

He sat down. “So soon? I had hoped we might have lunch before…”

“I’m going with Helen to the police station. Max is coming too, then we’ll all head home.”

“Of course. Would you like me-”

“It’s fine. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure, I was just going to ask if you would like me to get you an _Uber_.”

Natalie looked at his kind, open face. She smiled and touched his arm. “Sorry. Yes, thank you, that would be great.”

“Nat, if there’s anything I can do, you know you only-”

“Yes, I know.” She turned and leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you. You’ve done so much already.”

Tom was alarmed at the sadness in her eyes, and in her voice, but he said nothing, just put a warm arm around her and took the coffee she poured him. Bobby sat between them, his chin alternating between Natalie’s knee and Tom’s, his wide brown eyes gazing up into their faces. He sensed the tense atmosphere and wanted to comfort them both. They finished their breakfast and Natalie went up to finish packing. Tom cleared up in the kitchen and tried to busy himself, but he was listening for her every movement. Something was very wrong with her, something more than the natural anxiety such an experience might bring in its wake. He wanted to help, but she had to allow it, and for now she seemed to be keeping him at arm’s length. As a pretext to be upstairs, he went up to check something on his computer, reaching the top of the stairs just as Natalie came out of the bedroom with her suitcase.

“I’ll take that down for you, shall I?”

“Thanks.” She followed him downstairs.

“Are you meeting the others there?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go now?”

Natalie bit her lip. No, she didn't want to go at all, because she had the sickening feeling that she was never coming back. “Yes, I think I should. Helen just messaged to say they’re checking out.”

Tom reached for his phone and ordered the car for her. “On its way, darling.”

She looked round at his large, open living room, at the posters and paintings, at the piles of unshelved books, at his copy of her novel on the coffee table. She loved this room; she had felt at home here from the very start. A stab of pain pierced her gut - nostalgia for a place she hadn’t even left yet. Tom’s arm went around her waist and he pulled her against his body, gently but firmly. She looked up into his face and he pressed his lips to hers. She melted into his embrace as he deepened the kiss, his mouth exploring, his limbs supporting.

Natalie felt it, his love. His need to show her that he was there, that she could lean on him. “The car’s here, love.” His voice was low, tight.

She pulled her head back, withdrawing. She had to.

“Let me know how it goes?”

“Of course.”

Tom carried her things to the car, and they said goodbye with a chaste kiss.

_________________________________________________

**_Friday afternoon_ **

  * **_Im home. All good_**
  * _Thats great, How did it go with the police?_
  * **_OK. They took our statements._**
  * _Good_
  * **_Hes been charged with ABH and remanded in custody pending psych reports_**
  * _How’s Helen?_
  * **_Shes ok. Home with P and happier that hes locked up_**
  * _And you?_
  * **_Im fine_**
  * _When can we see each other again?_
  * **_Not sure_**
  * **_Sorry. I need to work darling_**
  * _OK. Me too._
  * _Let me know xxxx_



Natalie put her phone down and looked out of the kitchen window. She had lied to Tom again, something she had promised herself she wouldn't do. She was not fine, and she knew, too, that work was impossible. She felt utterly terrible and wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa and do nothing. And she needed to let Tom distance himself from her.

Tom was in his office at _HCR Films._ Searching for distraction and purpose, he had run across the Heath and gone in, mainly to check in with everybody and see if he could usefully do anything to help anyone. But as he had suspected, he was surplus to requirements, and apart from making a fresh pot of coffee and washing the mugs that had collected in the communal kitchen, he had achieved very little. And now he was sure that Nat was lying to him.

He ran back home and collected Bobby, taking him for his regular afternoon sniff ’n’ meet session. He kept his distance from the other owners as usual, acknowledging but not engaging unless it would be actively rude not to do so. He wanted to think, but most of all, he wanted Natalie to be there with him. He needed to understand what was happening. How - _why_ \- had the attack derailed her so badly? He’d thought, no, _he had known_ that the two of them had made a deep connection; why, then, was she shutting him out? Only Nat can answer these questions, he thought, and she’s not talking.

____________________________________

**_Monday morning_ **

  * _Hi darling. How did your weekend go?_
  * **_It was OK. We talked a lot._**
  * _How are they?_
  * **_Well you know. Relieved it might now be over. The WM Police are interviewing them this week. Theyre talking abt a stalking charge_**
  * _Good. And you?_
  * **_Same. Relieved_**
  * **_Except of course I didn't know that anything needed to be over_**
  * _Darling_
  * _That wasn't your fault_
  * **_It was tho_**
  * _Darling, no_
  * _They chose not to tell you_
  * **_I suppose_**



Natalie dropped the phone on the sofa beside her and sipped her coffee. He’d understand if he was a parent… or maybe not. Is it a mother thing? _Is it a Natalie thing…?_ She was still in her dressing-gown, unable to get moving after tossing and turning all night. Helen and Phil had left after dinner, having stayed over on Saturday. Everything they said about why they had kept her in the dark made sense - she was seriously ill then in recovery from major surgery, and at first they thought it was nothing, that it would blow over, then it became difficult to contemplate burdening her with it when she was still frail - but it was no comfort.

She glanced at the photo on the mantle - the three of them at the girls’ wedding. Such a joyous occasion, only two years ago. Life had seemed so exciting then, so full of promise for the future: the publishing deal had just been signed, Helen was happy in her life, Graham was on the way to being no more than a bad memory. Tom was wrong, she thought, remembering a conversation they had less than two weeks earlier on the very same sofa; the universe does rebalance itself. And I have been greedy. And selfish.

She stood up quickly and headed for the kitchen, her mind made up. Well, not anymore.

_____________________________________________

**_Monday afternoon_ **

“Luke?”

Hi, Tom...look, I think you should know I’ve had a call from the Fail.”

“About…?”

“Ms Banks’ ex is offering to sell his story. They wanted a reaction.”

Tom grunted. “Well, no comment, of course.”

“Naturally. And the woman who called me sounded dubious as to whether they were interested. But…”

“There are other places for him to go...yes, OK, thanks. Do you think Nat knows?”

“I expect they’ve contacted JRB as well. And possibly HCR?”

Tom ended the call and texted Natalie immediately.

  * **_Yes, Gail just rang. Im so sorry to have got you mixed up in all this_**
  * _Nonsense. Im just concerned for you, darling_
  * **_I doubt that anyone will pay him_**
  * **_Im not exactly a celeb_**
  * _And its obvious hes just trying to cash in on Helens misfortune. No, hes not looking like the best dad_
  * **_Indeed not. Its typical._**
  * **_Anyway, Im saying nothing and with luck itll go away_**
  * _Yes._
  * **_Thanks for letting me know tho_**
  * _TTYL xxx_



____________________________________________________

**_Monday evening_ **

It was late, but Natalie was not sleepy. She was angry, frustrated, restless with a thousand emotions she had no name for. Most of the negative energy was directed internally. She had been talking most of the evening with Helen, and they believed had agreed a strategy for most eventualities. If any media outlet did pick up Graham’s story, which seemed unlikely as it had to be of little interest, then they were prepared. No comment, not at all, about anything. They were helped by the fact that the legal case was now _sub judice,_ and Natalie believed that by halting all things between her and Tom not connected to the film, she would help any story lose what little financial value it might have held.

Not that she told Helen of her decision regarding Tom. They spoke of many things, but her romantic life was not one of them. In fact, Helen had noticed that her mother deflected all questions about herself but accepted that she had to allow for some temporary maternal overcompensation. So their conversation was of work, home and how to deal with the dysfunctional male they had both hoped was no longer their problem.

But now the call was over, and the dark emptiness of the cottage was closing in on Natalie. She watched the fire flickering, fragments of wood glowing as they fell from logs and spluttering as they hit the charcoal below. The crackle of the flames apart, the house was quiet. No rain, no wind, no more snow. No dog, no man… Just me, she thought, alone with my guilt.

Her phone buzzed with a message. She glanced at the screen. It was from Tom, so she ignored it. A painful wave of emptiness swept over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to banish the memory of him, but it was useless. So instead she stood up and prepared for bed. She had some sleeping tablets she’d been given when she first came home from hospital, and she resolved to break her habit and actually take one. Nothing would get written again tomorrow unless she had a least a few hours of sleep.

Tom was awake too, and worried. Natalie had been distant since she left, and now it seemed she had stopped responding to his messages, at least this evening. The concern he had felt at her reaction on Thursday was becoming a storm of anxiety. Why was she withdrawing from him? Had he said or done something wrong? His phone remained stubbornly silent, so he let Bobby out for his final pee and went to bed. He laid down but there was little sleeping.

______________________________________

**_Friday evening_ **

The steak wasn’t going to eat itself, but Tom had lost all interest in it even as it was sizzling in the pan. The week had been long and his heart distracted, and now it was the weekend with no apparent prospect of a change. He had done his best to keep things between them as ‘normal’ as he could. He texted her to say good morning and goodnight, he sent her flowers, he tried to ring her to talk properly at least once a day. Nat still responded but only in short sentences to his messages, didn’t pick up when he called, and politely offered plausible excuses to decline all his suggestions for meeting. He tried to think when they had gone so long without at least talking on the phone. Not since the early days of their friendship, in the time before he knew about her illness.

He sighed, dragging his fingers through his unruly, unbrushed curls. “She’s shutting me out,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice roused Bobby from his bed. The spaniel’s claws clicked on the tiles as he wandered over to lean his soft chin on his master’s knee. Tom ruffled the curly hair on the dog’s ears, smiling wistfully at him. “What’ve I done, Bobs? I thought she-” His voice caught and he stopped, unable to say it aloud.

_I thought she loved me. I know I love her._

Tom topped up the wineglass beside his untouched dinner and took a mouthful, barely tasting the Argentinian Merlot. What a waste of good wine, he thought, then took another. He glanced at his phone. Was it worth one more try? Of course it was - he had no intention of giving up, not on this person. She was more than special, she was...

Natalie saw his name flash up on the screen. Please, Tom, please stop… She picked up her book and turned away from the arm of the sofa where her lover’s desperate pleas remained unanswered.

When he got the answerphone again, Tom threw his phone onto the table so roughly he had to make a grab to stop it from spinning off the edge. He grimaced and looked through the window beside him into the blackness of his garden, his mind whirling with ideas. The decision made, he went to rise from the chair, but the glass of rich red wine caught his eye.

“Fuck… OK, tomorrow, then.”


	4. Since all alike my songs and praises be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom refuses to give up, but can he persuade her?

It was 8.30 am and Natalie was loading the dishwasher, one part of her mindless morning routine, when her phone buzzed from the table. “Oh, please, stop trying, Thomas.” Her whisper was soft, the tone unconvincing. Without even bothering to look at the screen, she finished her task, wiped her hands and headed for the back door, pulled on her boots, grabbed a warm jacket from the hooks in the porch, and set off on her daily walk. It was cold, with a dampness in the air that she felt on her face as soon as she stepped outside. The gloomy light was brightening from the east as a reluctant sun did its best to burn away the low cloud that clung to the Ridge above the village.

She headed down the road, but when she reached the junction she turned left, away from the steeply rising land behind the cottages and the road into the village centre and instead towards the river Arrow. Away from the happy memories, and from the probability of human interaction. She wanted only the water, the trees and the birds. Bare branches shivered in the gusty wind, and the leafless hedgerows gave only limited shelter from the chill, but she tramped on. Walking faster than usual, using the rhythm of her steps as a mantra, a mind-numbing chant to push away thoughts of him, she soon reached the river path. She had to focus on understanding herself again. The attempt was only partially successful thus far, but she kept going. Whatever her other failings, lack of persistence was not one of them.

In the past week her days had settled into a pattern: get up early - why stay in bed if you can’t sleep? - breakfast, followed by at least twenty minutes of compulsory exercise, then a minimum of three hours of work before lunch; three more after - maybe four. That, at least, was working, to a degree. Words were being written, and sometimes she almost felt they were they right ones. The story she wanted to tell was unfolding, even if haltingly and lacking the emotional depth she might have wished. In the times she was not at the keyboard, she busied herself as much as possible - cleaning, cooking, tidying, reading. Anything. But the evenings, the nights; those were the problem. Because when the house was quiet, when the music stopped and she had to get off the ride… Then she was alone with this stranger.

But here, along the banks of this unspoilt little tributary of the Wye, she felt wrapped in the soothing arms of Mother Nature. Even in late winter, with just a few signs of the spring that was about to burst forth, it was full of life. Pausing to admire the sunlight reflecting off the water, the dappled shade from the graceful drooping boughs of the ancient willow opposite as they brushed the reeds and the delicate music of the rippling stream, she breathed in, slowly and deeply _. I have, and I already had so much_. She managed a small smile and set off upstream, grinning genuinely when her passage sent a moorhen skittering across the river in flurry of black feathers and tiny splashes.

__________________________________________________

Tom had forgotten - or at least, he had allowed to fade in his memory - just how gorgeous the Cotswolds are. On impulse, he had left the M4 early and cut through the rolling, green and creamy-stoned region, feeling a sudden urge to see Blockley on his way. His childhood home was much as he remembered it and the beauty of the dew-damp landscape in the early morning light had buoyed up his heart. Now he was crossing the Wye valley, and not so far away from Hereford. Thirsty, he stopped at a village shop and bought water, then sat in the car and tried texting Natalie again. She had not responded to his ‘good morning’ message, which was unusual. She had been terse all week, but she did normally reply. Not today.

He started the car and pulled out, sighing. Was this her way of telling him it was over? He’d have to be pretty thick-skinned not to feel she was pushing him away, but he was not ready to accept it. Not yet; not without an explanation; not without a chance to fight for this relationship. Because he wasn’t ready to lose this feeling. Which is why he had left his house at 4am, and why he was now driving the _F-type_ down country roads on a Saturday morning, dodging tractors and 4x4s and MPVs full of children being taken shopping or to sports or dancing and drama clubs or all the other things the people of Herefordshire did at the weekend. This would have been a nicer route for his last visit, had it not been for the ridiculous weather, he thought, but today the roads were clogged with traffic. His heart speeded a little when he saw the sign saying Hereford was only three miles away. Soon.

If she’s even there, that is.

_________________________________________________

The first thing Natalie noticed when she got home was the smell of the damn flowers. The house was full of them, gorgeous spring blooms, freesias in particular, and their fragrance was everywhere. She wished he’d stop sending them; it hurt her heart to look at them. Nevertheless, when they came she had arranged them in vases in every room. _He is so kind, so beautiful, so desirable. No wonder he turned my head, she thought. No wonder I lost my way._ She closed her eyes for moment, feeling stranded in her feelings there in the middle of the kitchen. She had fought hard all week to keep them at bay, to push all her energy into writing, or towards helping her daughter. Now, this smell had brought it all flooding in, and she could not hold back the tide.

The doorbell dragged her back to reality, away from the torrent of memories of him sitting right there, at the table with her or upstairs, in his house or beside her as they walked on Hampstead Heath. Assuming it was the postman or a neighbour, she hurried to answer it. Instead, as she opened the front door she saw Tom standing there. Her heart squeezed with a flash of happiness, then irritation. He smiled tentatively.

“Darling, I-”

“Oh Tom, what the hell are you doing here?”

He shuffled uncomfortably on the step. Natalie showed no sign she was inviting him in, nor of approaching close enough for an embrace. “You wouldn't answer my calls. I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine. I was working.” He shrugged; they both knew that wasn't exactly true. She looked at him for a long moment. He took off his sunglasses and she saw his eyes looked red and tired. “You’d better come in, I suppose.”

She turned abruptly and he followed her down the narrow hallway to the warmth of the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Thanks.”

“Where’s Bobby?”

“Emma’s popping round to get him.” He paused. “I…er..I left rather early, and there wasn’t time...” He didn’t want to get into a mundane discussion about the difficulty of getting hold of a suitable car in the middle of the night.

Busying herself with the coffee, Natalie didn’t look round. “I assumed.”

“Nat, I-”

“You shouldn't have come all this way, Tom. There’s no point.”

He looked at her back. Why won’t she look at me? “Of course there is. I wanted to see you.” He paused, alarmed to find his throat was tight. “I was worried.”

“You said.”

“Nat, look at me, please.” She took a deep breath before turning, steeling herself. The sight of him at the door had been terrible. Wonderful, but a dreadful affirmation of her feelings for him. But she couldn’t have this - _him -_ not now, not knowing what had happened, and what that meant. About her. “I came because you won’t talk to me. Something’s wrong, and. I want to understand-”

“It’s not you.” She saw a flash of pain on his face. “I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true.” She poured his coffee, put it in front of him and sat down. He joined her, reaching for her hands across the table. Subtly but definitely, she kept them out of reach.

“Explain it to me.” She shrugged. “Please.” She shook her head. How could she explain it? That she couldn’t be in a new relationship when she didn't even know who she was anymore? “I know what happened was horrible, but-”

Her head shook again, more vehemently. “It’s not even that, not really.” Tom reached for her hands again, and this time she let him capture them, feeling a surge of love as the warmth of him encompassed her. She was trembling. “I mean, it was upsetting, naturally, but the girls are fine, relieved that he’s getting help. They were both more worried about _him_ than themselves.”

“Hmm, OK. No concerns my end either.”

“Apart from more tabloid stories.”

“Pah! Nothing, a storm in a teacup.” He squeezed her hand. “And no one seems to have wanted your ex’s angle.”

“No… well, that’s a blessing. But I am sorry you got dragged into this, Tom.”

“Nonsense. I’m not ‘in’ anything. Or not in anything I don’t want to be, anyway.” He lifted two fingertips to touch her chin lightly so she would look at his face. “It’s what you do for the ones you love.”

Natalie’s eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t _love_ you?” His voice was quiet, but the words were knives in her chest. “Sorry, but it’s too late, Nat.” Again, she shook her head, this time withdrawing her hands and standing up. “Why do you say that? Please, tell me.” He was trying hard to maintain a calm atmosphere, because it was clear to him she was in great distress. He kept his eyes on her as she stepped away to stand over by the window.

“I’m not in a… a good place to be starting a relationship. And I don’t want to cause you anymore trouble.”

“You haven’t caused me any trouble, Nat.”

“And then there’s the film.”

He frowned. “Nat, this isn’t about me, or the film, or anything else, is it? It’s about you.” She shrugged, not meeting his firm gaze. “Please, try to explain. I love you-” He gulped, suddenly on the verge of crying. “I’m here for you, darling. Let me help.” Seeing his obvious emotion was the last straw, and the dam burst. Tom was round the table in two strides and holding her tight against his body, long arms enveloping her, his lips pressed to her hair. “Shhhh, shhhh, darling. I’m here, it’s fine.”

For a few minutes, she believed he was right. Standing there, she felt safe and the joy he brought into her life was renewed, but the dark shadow she had lived under all week remained, even as he flooded her heart with light. Getting control of herself again, she looked up, intending to speak, but when she saw his eyes, and his mouth, she was lost. He leaned down and kissed her lips gently. The sensation made her melt into him and kiss him back, urgently. Following her lead, Tom deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring and his hands pressing her body against his firmly. He moaned, desire pouring through him, and she broke the contact, shaking her head.

“I can’t, Tom… I’m sorry…” Pushing his hands away, she made for the door to the rear porch.

He caught her hand and held on firmly. “Nat, please, tell me what’s going on in your head.” She turned partially back to face him. “Please.”

For a minute he thought she was going to leave anyway, that he had failed to persuade her. She was still and silent, still mostly facing away. Then she sighed and the rest of her rotated back towards the centre of the room.

“Please?”

“OK, I suppose... but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I can explain it. Not properly…”

“Try.”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

As they strode along the narrow country lane, Natalie made sure she was as far from Tom as she could be, because his proximity was a distraction, his touch irresistible. She led, mostly silently, retracing the route she had taken an hour earlier, towards the tranquil sanctuary of the riverbank. Like her, Tom found the sights, sounds and smells of nature soothing, but he remained tense, concerned for her and anxious about what he was going to hear. They found a sheltered spot with a fallen tree that walkers habitually used as a makeshift bench. Making herself comfortable at a discreet distance, Natalie took a long drink of water from her bottle and looking at the river, began to speak. “I know you think I overreacted to the attack.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, not exactly-”

“But you’re right. I did. Because it was a horrible shock.” She gave an involuntary shudder at the memory and he wanted to put his arm around her so badly he could barely contain it. “Not the actual event, unpleasant though it was. Not even the thought that this man had been stalking Phil, and then Helen...no, not even that.” She took a juddering intake of breath. “It was the fact that I had no idea.”

_Ah._

“You see, Tom, for the last thirty years, there has been one good, one truly beautiful thing in my life: Helen. Being her mother was the only reason I had to keep going, for so long... And believing that I was doing a good job at it, at being her sole real parent despite everything, well, that kept me sane. Gave me purpose. Gave my life meaning.”

“You did an amazing job. She’s a wonderful person.”

“Yes, she is. But what has happened to me now? I get this house, I start messing around with writing, and I change. Maybe it’s living alone, I don’t know, but I’ve become selfish, self-obsessed. Greedy.” Tom shook his head, but she was not looking.

“Nat, no…”

“The minute I get some attention, I start getting silly ideas of fame and fortune, and worse, I stop noticing what is going on in Helen’s life. She was going through something this vile… I just don’t understand myself. If I am not a good mother, what the fuck am I?” A painful sob broke through. “ _Who_ the fuck am I…?”

It was too much for him. He moved towards her and she allowed it, the need for his comfort greater than her impulse to withdraw. He pulled her into the firm circle of his arms, letting her head rest on his shoulder as she sobbed quietly against the soft wool of his jacket. He said nothing, but he didn't need to. He understood now. It made sense - in fact, he scolded himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course it hurt her so badly. All through her awful marriage she had been focussed on Helen, not unhealthily, just out of necessity for them both. So _Helen’s Mum_ was her identity…

Time passed, and Natalie’s crying abated, but she did not draw back, remaining pressed against his side as she breathed him in. Birds sang, the river passed by unseeing but still a friendly companion as it whispered along its way. Tom allowed his eyes to close as his lips rested on her hair. He felt better; he knew now what he was up against, and he was sure he could win. A gust of cold wind ruffled his hair and Natalie shivered. “Shall we go back?”

She straightened up and looked into his face. Her eyes were wet, still red, but brighter. “Yes, let’s; it’s a bit chilly for sitting.”

“OK. But…”

“Yes?”

She smiled at him and he knew then. He knew that the door he had planned to beat down was already open to him. “I was going to say that I think you’re wrong. You are being too hard on yourself, Nat.”

The smile faded. “I failed her.”

“You did not. She deliberately kept you in the dark. And she did that because she is a kind and considerate daughter who loves you very much. The person _you_ made the way she is, by the way. It was her chance to repay you for all the years you kept her safe and loved in a house full of hostility. As for not realising, well… living apart means that a person can carefully curate what another knows of their life.”

Natalie considered his words. “Yes, I suppose all that’s true...”

“And for what it’s worth, in her shoes, I’d have done the same as Helen because you were very ill. Quite fragile, for a while.”

Damn him and his logic. But still she felt adrift, confused. “But why didn't I notice _anything_? I’ve always known when something was wrong before…”

“She worked hard to hide it. This really isn’t your fault, you know.”

“But it is!” Anger blazed briefly in her chest. He still didn't get it. “I’m sorry. But that’s how I feel.”

“Fair enough. I think, now you have explained your feelings to me, that your reaction is totally understandable. And perhaps, with time, you’ll feel better about it...”

“But I have been selfish.” He shook his head vehemently. “I have, though. And I’m so sorry I’ve been treating you so coldly. I was… I feel confused about myself, so the idea of infecting you with that seemed terrible. I know what you’ve been through.” He squeezed her hand to show he understood. “I wanted to hide away, not confront how I felt about you. It felt like too much to deal with when I was such a mess… And as a result, instead of protecting you, I’ve been hurting you. And instead of helping Helen, I’ve made this about _me._ ”

He smiled as he stood and held out his hand for her to take. “I don’t really agree, but if you’re feeling guilty, I’m more than happy to allow you to assuage that, by making the rest of today about _me_.” He raised his eyebrows and she knew she was helpless. “If that would help at all.”

Natalie got to her feet and looked at him steadily. “I think that sounds like an excellent form of atonement, although hardly selfless on my part.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss the end of his nose, smirking when his eyes closed from the sheer sensual pleasure of it. He adjusted his jeans, which made her smile wider. “Come on,” she whispered, and took off back up the path, tugging his hand as he followed.

________________________________________________

I could get used to this, Natalie thought as she stretched her limbs languidly and allowed her hands to settle on Tom’s bare shoulders. It was cool in her bedroom, but they were generating enough heat to make that irrelevant. He was looking into her eyes, and his gaze, wordless but nonetheless full of meaning, was making her heart beat faster, but in the best possible way. Her fingers traced the edge of his hairline, luxuriating in the silken feel of his curls on her knuckles, and then she followed the edge of his bare skin around the borders of his face. True to his word as ever, he was allowing her to worship him for once, and it was pure devotion.

“ _Till nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting_ …”

“Shhhh...”

He made to kiss her quiet, but instead she pressed him back, down, onto the bed behind him and she followed. Still his eyes never left hers, steadfast and adoring. Her kisses painted a trail, her tongue lapped; she followed the map of his freckles, darting, lingering, resting to inhale the private fragrance Giorgio Armani could never hope to emulate. Surprising herself with her boldness, she took him in hand, the heat almost scalding, the hardness at once alarming and pleasing. His eyes began to close as she bent to place a kiss on the dark tip, then caressed it with her tongue.

“Nat, oh…”

“Just tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

“There’s no wr-” He hissed. “Oh...ah!”

He was so big, and she had never attempted fellatio before, but it felt right, almost necessary. And so, carefully, and calling upon a lifetime of reading erotic fiction, she worked him with her mouth and hands, varying her actions. Relishing the taste, she licked and sucked and marvelled at the exquisite beauty of him. It was delicious, and the most aroused she’d ever felt. But this was not for her, not this time. Tom had given her so much, not least in bed. She had repaid him with pain, so the least she could do was this. And he was enjoying it. He was making sounds she’d never heard from him, or anyone, before. His hands settled in her hair and he guided her, lifting her away slightly when he thought she was struggling for breath, but allowing her to continue. He understood she needed this. And so did he. Soon his entire nervous system was narrowing down to one area and he knew he had to warn her.

“Nat, Nat, I’m going to.”

“Mmmm.”

“You don’t have...ah...ok…OH, oh, I-I-I-I’m... ahhhhhhhhh!”

She sat back and wiped her mouth. “ _But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure_ …”

“Hey, that’s my trick, quoting Will at times like this… Fu-u-u-u-ck, Nat, that was amazing…”

“Was it? You’re not just being polite?”

Tom sat up, still looking dazed, and reached for her hands. “Did...do I look as if I’m pretending?”

“Well, no…”

“Come here.” He pulled her down onto his chest while kissing her deeply and allowing his hands to smooth the soft skin of her back. “Give me a few minutes to, um, gather myself, and then it’s your turn.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m-”

“Nat, _please_ , I can feel how wet you are, it’s all over my leg.”

She blanched, then blushed. “Oh! Sorry, I-”

“It’s fine. It’s very sexy.”

She settled into a more comfortable position, beside him, her left arm and leg draped over his body. The cool air in the room was pleasant on her skin and she snuggled, feeling his cock twitching against her leg as it came back to life. There it was again, that feeling she had felt unworthy of and tried to banish: happiness.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He looked into her eyes. “That I love you?” She nodded, welling up a little. “Of course I did.”

“I love you too, Tom.”

Tom smiled, took a long, deep breath and pulled her tighter against his side, kissed her forehead and let the air out in a juddering sigh. “I sort of thought you might … oh, my darling Nat, how I love you.”

And to think I nearly drove him away. “Thank goodness you are such a stubborn bastard.”

“Hah! Takes one to know one.” Tom turned his body to loom over her and she took in the sight of him: his hair a mess of red-gold curls; his beard glowing in the pale winter light, his sky-blue eyes sparking with love and desire. “Now madam,” he said, pressing her into the pillow as he moved between her legs, “I think I owe you an orgasm. Or two.”

“Two? I only-”

His voice was low. “We have all day.”


	5. Fair, kind and true is all my argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie agrees that she might need some help coming to terms with her past. But then Nature throws her a curve ball...

**_Early Saturday afternoon_ **

When Tom opened his eyes, the room was dappled with low sunshine. He had dozed off, not surprising since he had barely slept before getting up and driving to the Welsh Marches. He sighed happily, then turned over to discover he was alone. He reached over and felt the sheet - it was still warm. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

“Nat?”

Her voice came from the en suite bathroom. “I’m just in here.” Natalie stepped into the room, mostly dressed. “I was going to let you sleep on. You looked so peaceful.”

He patted the side of the bed beside him. “Come here for a minute.”

“Okay.” Her reluctance was disingenuous, and she sat down eagerly, one hand stroking his tousled hair. Tom leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, inhaling deeply and smiling. “You are daft.”

“Am I? Why?”

“Driving all this way.”

“I needed my girl.” Natalie blushed and leaned into his embrace a bit more. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I’m still not...not really sure how I feel about all this.”

“About you and me?”

“About me and Helen, really. And by extension, yes, I suppose, you and me.”

“Darling…”

“I...yes, well, it’s so hard to explain, as I tried to say before…” She chewed her lip as Tom rubbed his hand smoothly over her shoulder and looked at her, such love and compassion in his eyes that she had to look away, overcome. “I think… it’s not something I can sort out quickly. It’s too...I dunno...complicated...too deep inside what it means to be me, I suppose. Too tightly entwined.” She smiled at the floor, feeling that helplessness again. “I don't know, but I think I’m going to have to work on this for a while. You may have to be patient with me.” She braved a quick glance at his face. “Sorry.”

“I can wait. As long as you let me wait _with_ you. Beside you.” Natalie nodded and turned her face back to his, and they nuzzled, then kissed, lips and teeth taking little pecks and nips, breath exchanged, sighs mingling, the heat of his skin against the smooth cotton of her shirt. Then suddenly she pulled away, swearing softly. “What is it, darling?”

“Bloody migraine starting. Excuse me a sec.” She reached into her bedside drawer and unpeeled the foil wrapper around a tablet. “These sometimes work.” She popped the tiny off-white pill into her mouth, grimacing. “It has to melt on my tongue. Yuk.”

Tom already knew she suffered, but he might have hoped that his presence would act as a balm, rather than a cause. “Lie down, love, I can get up and give you some peace and quiet.”

She shook her head. “I’m OK for now. I’ll see if this works. If not, I might try that.” She saw his worried face. “It’s not your fault. I get them when stress is relieved, sometimes. I’ve had quite a few lately. I might talk to the doc about it. I’m seeing her a week next Friday for my regular check-up.”

“It’s rotten luck. Is there anything they can give you? To prevent them, I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so. Helen says there are a few options. No harm in asking, anyway.” She squeezed his arm and stood up. “Would you like a drink? Tea of coffee or something? I find caffeine helps, and food. Sandwiches be OK?”

“Actually, I am hungry, now you mention it. What time is it?”

“About one-thirty, I think.”

He laughed. “That explains it.”

_________________________________________

Once dressed, Tom joined Natalie down in the kitchen. She had rustled up some crusty ham and cheese sandwiches, a bottle of beer for him and a _Coke Zero_ for herself. He sat down in what he had come to think of as ‘his’ chair and they ate in silence for a few minutes. “How are you feeling now?”

“The head, you mean?” He nodded. “Better. A bit foggy, but no pain worth mentioning.”

He smiled encouragingly. “Good.” He took another bite, chewed and considered his next question carefully. “Have you given any thought to seeing a therapist?” She looked up sharply. “To talk through what happened to you, I mean?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s all behind me now.”

“But is it?” Tom reached for her hand, a familiar gesture now and one so full of meaning for them both. “I’m not criticising, but I can see that you are still in pain. Anyone would be, after all those years in a situation like that. It has to have caused some damage. A professional could help you deal with it.”

She looked at him for a long time before she spoke. Helen had said something similar to her a few weeks earlier, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to rake it all over again. The book was done, it was with the publishers. Couldn’t that be an end to it? “I don’t know if I want to bare my soul to a stranger…”

“It can be enormously helpful. I know.”

“You’ve tried it?” He nodded. “Well, maybe… I don’t know.”

“Darling, I get that you are struggling with all that’s happened to Helen and Phil, and that it’s making you question so much. I do get it, Nat. I know I’m not a parent, and I haven’t been through what you have, of course. But I wonder if some of this is… well, could it be being made worse by what your ex put you through? I do know that this is exactly the sort of thing a therapist can help you to find out.”

She sighed. He was doing it again - gently defeating her with his relentless kindness and logic. “OK, I’ll give it some proper consideration. Maybe ask Dr Hawkins for a referral when I see her.” She laughed. “I’d better make a list. She’ll love that!”

His smile was even more dazzling than usual. “Excellent. Shall I make us a pot of coffee?”

_____________________________________

**_Early Saturday evening_ **

Natalie was resting, her head in his lap, her eyes closed and her legs up on the sofa, while Tom read with his feet on the footstool. She had dozed on and off as the day had waned and darkened, and he was content to allow the time to pass, happy just to be in her company again. The homely fragrance of wood smoke filled the room as the fire crackled softly. Suddenly, it occurred to him he had made an assumption.

“Would it be OK if I stayed over tonight?”

“Of course, but can you?”

He smiled. “I asked Emma to have Bobby ‘til tomorrow, so…”

She opened her eyes and looked at him appraisingly. “I see...”

He shrugged. “I was planning to camp out on your front lawn if you wouldn’t let me in.”

“Oh yes?”

“You said it: I’m a stubborn bastard.”

She reached up with her right hand and stroked his cheek. “A beautiful, pig-headed, stubborn-”. Tom cut her off, swiftly moving to cover her mouth with his. She groaned as they both shifted, stiffness in her muscles causing her some discomfort.

“Are you alright, love?”

“Yes, my back’s a little bit sore. I missed yoga yesterday.” Tom frowned, she shrugged. “That lot are unrelentingly jolly and I didn’t feel particularly sociable.”

Gently, he helped her into a more upright sitting position. “We can do a few poses together now, if you’d like to. To ease your muscles out a bit…? I could do with it, too.” He rolled his shoulders.

“I’ve only got one mat...”

He grinned. “I can rough it. I’m a big boy.”

“You’re telling me,” she muttered, making him blush endearingly and chuckle as he took her by the hand and they stood up. “I usually do my home sessions in the study - there’s floor space in there and I have a playlist on iTunes.”

Natalie’s study was dark when they walked in, and a cool contrast to the cosy, sleep-inducing warmth of her snug sitting room. She switched on the tall uplighter and the desk lamp, casting subtle shadows on the olive green walls. Tom spotted her yoga mat rolled up and resting on a bookshelf. He unrolled it on the floor for her as she kicked her mules under the chair and pulled off her socks. He removed his own socks and they looked at each other expectantly before laughing.

“You’re the expert, _Sensei…_ ”

“Hardly…But OK, let’s do a couple of _sun salutations_ to start off with, and see how we get on.”

There was just about enough room for them to stand side by side with her office chair pushed under the desk. Tom did take the lead, calling the moves and glancing over to check Natalie was keeping pace with him. After the warm-up, they tried a few balances, then some _Warriors_. Natalie grunted as she felt her thighs juddering.

“You OK, love?”

“Yes, I’m just a bit weak still. In the core, you know...”

“Come out of pose if you need to.”

She looked over at him: he wore a thin t-shirt and joggers and she could see his musculature clearly. He was rock-steady in position. “Nah, I’m OK. It won’t get better if I don’t persist.”

He smiled. “Good girl. OK, back into _Warrior Two_. And now, last move on this side - reach forward and straighten the front leg...”

After twenty minutes, Natalie begged for mercy. “Please, darling, be kind to an old lady.”

“Oh, shush, you’re not old! But that’s enough for today, yes. We can do a bit more in the morning.”

“What time is it...fuck!” She started to get up from her supine position on the mat. “What the hell are we going to have for dinner?”

“I’m sure we-”

She stood and began rolling up her mat. “Shows how discombobulated I am - I hadn’t even thought about that! Let me go and see what’s in the fridge.”

“Nat.” His hand was on her shoulder.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does.” Feeding guests was as much a part of being her as motherhood.

“Nat, I turned up on your doorstep, uninvited. I don’t expect you to cook for me. Could we order in, or go to the pub, perhaps?”

She looked at him for a long moment, perplexed. Perhaps it was just her, but this felt like a generational difference between them. Natalie ate out from time to time, but she hadn’t bought herself a takeaway since she moved to Herefordshire. And she could never imagine ordering food in for guests… no, the truth was _Graham would not have tolerated that._ And of course, she was not raised that way, because her mother would not have had the option. “I don’t actually know if anyone delivers out here, sorry… the village pub’s okay, but…”

Tom already had his phone out. “It’s alright, I have the app… yes, there’s a couple of Indians in Leominster who deliver here. You like Indian food, don’t you?” She nodded enthusiastically. He showed her a menu and they chose a few dishes between them. He tapped the screen a few times and announced dinner would be there in twenty minutes. She shook her head.

“To think I could have… I need to get with the program.”

Tom wrapped his arms around her as she stood, still slightly stunned with the ease of the entire process, and he kissed the side of her head. “I’ll put the app on your phone for you later if you like, but don’t use it too often. Far too much fat and salt in those things…” He wagged his finger sternly. She made an ineffectual attempt to find any spare flesh to pinch on his sides as he danced around, evading her grasp, then he chased her along the hallway to the kitchen and they laid the table together, still giggling. The food arrived on time, delivered by a taxi driver Natalie recognised. It was standard Bangladeshi-style but tasty and they washed it down with local cider.

She looked up from her plate halfway through the meal. Tom was eating steadily, in between talking about Chennai and his sister’s wedding. She watched as his arms waved, with or without a fork or a piece of naan in his hand, his expressive face enchanting her, and suddenly, it hit her like a train. _I love him so much, and I tried to push him away. I tried to close the door on him, almost literally._ Tears welled up and his face became blurred.

“Nat? Are you..?”

She shook her head. “I’m OK,” she muttered, “just, you know, realising what a fool I’ve been…”

He dropped his fork and put his right hand on her forearm. “You haven’t, though. You mustn’t think like that.”

“But I nearly…”

He shuffled his chair closer to the corner of the table, so their knees were touching. “Darling.” He took a breath, looking into her distraught face. “This is why I think a therapist might help. You could benefit from a trained expert who can walk you through what has happened. Everything. And how it’s affected you.”

She nodded, not really knowing what to say or even if she could speak without bursting into tears. So instead she just inclined her head so it rested on his shoulder and he allowed his head in turn to lean gently on hers. She stopped crying, but even so, it was some minutes before he broke the silence.

“Is there any of that fabulous ice cream left by any chance?”

________________________________________

**_Sunday morning_ **

The first thing Natalie felt was the tickling of hair. Rough, male hair; beard and pubic, on her shoulder and her backside. They were spooning, snuggled close against the chill of the February morning and the warm joy of his body was enveloping her. She felt she was wrapped in his love. She turned her head to the right slightly, taking a breath to inhale him. He would be leaving today and, knowing that, she wanted to make the most of every moment. Feeling she was awake, Tom tightened his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Morning.” His voice was gravelly with sleep.

“Hello, beautiful.”

“How are you feeling, my love?”

“Much better.”

He inhaled deeply, shifting to slide a leg between hers languidly. “Good.”

Instantly, her entire body was alive to him, to his every movement. His breath on her skin; his fingertips as they closed on her nipple, making her gasp; the sensation of the hairs on his legs as they moved against hers; of the way his torso undulated behind her and the sounds he made. He was already hard - of course he was, that happened to young men in the morning - and when she reached around to stroke him he moaned and his hips bucked a little.

Tom sucked on her neck while his long fingers made their way carefully from her breasts, dancing, teasing, until they dipped between her thighs. “God, you’re so wet already...”

“Thomas, I’m always wet when you’re around.”

He chuckled and she felt his head dip. He’s blushing, she thought, even now. Does he really not get it? Does he really not know what he does to me? She lifted her arm and caressed his head, turning to kiss him passionately. Unable to contain himself any longer, Tom lifted Natalie’s thigh and slid inside, filling her. “God, that feels so good, Nat. So tight…”

“Mmmm… I didn’t even know this was possible… ah… oh…” Tom started to move his hips slowly, then gradually faster, holding Natalie steady, his mouth still on her neck as she arched her back in ecstasy.

“It...only really, um...works...if...ah…”

“You have a big cock?”

He laughed. “Um, yeah.” He snapped his pelvis and she moaned. “Now, keep still…” He loosened his hold so he could move his right hand to her clit, making her squeal. “Shhhh! OK, let’s see how this feels…” He spread his first and second fingers on either side and moved them wider and further down, so they spread her labia and almost touched his cock.

“Oh my god, oh my god, _Tom_ , ohmygod.”

It felt amazing to him too. It was almost transcendent, to feel himself as he went in and out of her, this wonderful woman he loved so much. To feel her heat and wet, his own hardness, their surging blood and hot flesh and the pleasure they were sharing. He felt her fluttering and the heaviness in his balls and he let it happen, happy after all that had happened in the last week that they could come together in a moment of exquisite joy.

_________________________________________

**_Tuesday afternoon_ **

  * _Hi darling. How r u feeling now?_
  * **_Better ta. Stupid damn things_**
  * _When do you see the doc?_
  * **_Friday next week_**
  * _Cant make it sooner?_
  * **_No need. Im OK. Really_**
  * _Nat_
  * _This is the second this week_
  * **_Tom, Im OK. I get clusters. Itll pass_**
  * **_Pretty much everything else in my life is great_**
  * **_Actually MORE THAN GREAT_**
  * _:))_
  * **_Gail had some news_**
  * _???_
  * **_Ive been asked to go to the Hay Festival_**
  * _Thats GREAT!!!_



Tom dialled her number. “Darling, this is fantastic for you!”

“Well…”

“You’ll do it, of course.”

“I think so… I know I used to say I wanted a low profile. Or none at all, come to that…”

“But you’ve changed your mind?”

“They want me for the ‘New Authors’ tent.”

“You know I wouldn’t put any pressure on, but it wouldn’t hurt the film financing.”

“Of course.” She chewed her lip. She had never wanted fame, not really. She loved the idea of her name on a book, and of seeing that book in a real bookshop. But to be well-known, that had not been part of the plan, or even part of her most elaborate fantasy. She had hoped to remain the mysterious writer nobody really knew beyond her work. But it was already too late for that in her case. The incident outside _Hatchards_ had put paid to any going under the radar. As if being Tom’s lover weren’t enough...

“But you must make whatever choice is best for you, Nat, you know that.”

“Oh don’t worry.”

“Have you had any more thoughts about that thing we talked about?”

“The size of your cock?”

“Natalie!”

“Thomas?”

He waited. He knew her well enough now to know she was deflecting. “Yes. I talked to Helen again last night. I am going to ask for a referral.”

Tom let out a long breath. “I’m glad.”

“I ought to get back to work, darling.”

“Yes, me too, actually. Henry has sent me some lovely spreadsheets to look at.”

“OK, love. Speak later?”

“Of course.”

“Bye.”

“Love you, Nat.”

“Love you too.”

She put her phone down and leaned back in her chair, looking out of the window at the apple trees in her garden. Their trunks, silvery with lichen, stood firm and squat, leaning away from the prevailing winds. Soon their branches would be covered in buds, then the blossom which would lead, in a few short months, to more fruit than she knew what to do with. The never-ending cycle of nature: it went on, whatever you did, however you felt, whatever personal crises you were going through, whatever ups and downs you were negotiating in your insignificant, fleeting little existence. Just a couple of weeks before, everything out there had been buried in ice and snow, apparently dead and frozen. Now it was waking up and about to burst into life again. A week earlier she was in the depths of despair, estranging herself from Tom; now she had accepted that he was an integral part of her; the best man she had ever known.

Her lover.

She stood suddenly, needing to move to shake off the horror of the memory. She had almost done the thing she had feared most. She had almost lost him. “But you didn’t. He wouldn’t let you do it, Nat.” She had spoken aloud without realising. It had started to rain, and silver droplets were falling, chasing each other down the window as she stared unseeing through it, the fading afternoon light glinting off them. Once again, I have been given another chance, she thought. Whatever else I do, this I must not squander.

_____________________________________________

**_Friday afternoon, a week later_ **

“Those all sound like very compelling reasons, Natalie, but how do you feel about it yourself?”

“Well…”

“Because you’ve told me how much other people think you should see a therapist. Your boyfriend, your daughter, your best friend... I want to know if you think you should.”

Natalie sighed. This was so typical of Julia Hawkins. She had been Nat’s GP since she moved to Lower Hergest, first helping her with the adjustment to her new life, then with the trauma of discovering her heart disease. She was caring and compassionate, but also pragmatic and keen to involve her patients in their own care as much as possible. “I think I’d like to give it a try. It’s been recommended to me by people I trust, and honestly, I’m struggling, Julia. This business with the man and Helen and Phil. I know they hid it from me on purpose, but it’s made me question myself, and I still can’t get past it.”

“OK,” said Dr Hawkins, swivelling her chair back towards her desk and bringing up her referral screen. “I know a good person. There’s a longish wait for an NHS spot, but if you’re willing…?” Natalie nodded. This was not the time to be overly precious and after all, she had the cash. “OK, I can write to her today. You will probably get a call in a day or two. Now, you said there was one more thing?”

“Yes, it’s my bloody migraines, I’m afraid. I’ve had another run of them. One or two a week for about a month now. The zolmitriptan only works about half the time, and of course, it doesn’t stop them coming.”

“No. Have you had clusters like this before?”

“A few times over the years. When I was pregnant, in the first trimester. Also, when things were very bad at home when I was still married. And when my menopausal symptoms first started.”

“I see. So I suppose you’d like a preventative?

“Yes please. If there is anything appropriate.”

Dr Hawkins started typing again. “There are a couple of things we can try. I think we’ll start with topiramate. It‘s primarily an antiepileptic, but it’s been found to be highly effective in a lot of patients and it’s easy to take. It’s OK with your other medications... Now, it says here that the main contraindication is pregnancy…”

“Haha…”

“Is there any risk at all? I take it as you mentioned this Tom that you are sexually active?”

Natalie blushed. “Well, yes, actually…”

“When was your last period?”

“Oh, ages… a year, maybe? I last had any bleeding at all six months ago, more than that, even.”

“Have you been using contraception?”

“Oh, er, no. Surely I’m safe though, right? I mean, at my age!”

Dr Hawkins raised an eyebrow, stood up and stepped over to the cabinet on the wall. She took out a small sample bottle and handed it to Natalie. “You know the drill.”

It took a minute for anything to come out. Tension, Natalie thought. I can’t be, not at fifty-two. _I can’t be pregnant._ Eventually she managed a paltry stream and caught enough in the canister. She returned to Julia’s consulting room and handed it over. While the test was working, they went through Natalie’s regular check-up routine.

“I see the de-fib went off the other week. What happened there?”

“That was in London. The day of the assault, you know…”

“Oh, yes, I see.”

“I was rather upset.”

“Of course. Any more upsets after that?”

“Not really. Nothing cardiac. I got myself in a bit of a state for a few days, as I told you, but Tom talked me down. Him and Helen. And Max: she never lets me get away with any self-indulgence.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. You’ve had a tough time, Natalie. You have coped incredibly well, better than many would. Even the strongest wobble occasionally, you know.” The timer on her phone chimed. “Right.” Natalie held her breath as the doctor stood and walked over to the work surface at the side of the room. She looked at the strip carefully and then turned around, her face neutral.

“Julia? What does it say?”

______________________________________

**_Friday evening_ **

“Tom?”

“Hi darling, how are you? What did the quack say?”

“Can you come up here tomorrow? I need to see you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


End file.
